Great things come in small packages...
I met Mrs. Dora at church, sometime before my daughter Lauren died. She is a petite woman, always smiling, and keeping busy with church work. When Lauren died, I learned that Mrs. Dora had walked in my footsteps about 30 years before me. Just like me, she lost her teenage daughter. I was struck by her knowing eyes, and her gentle smile. Her words sunk deep into the despair of my broken heart. Like a small seed which finds a crack in the concrete sidewalk, in which to sprout, hope took root inside my shattered heart. Mrs. Dora said “It will get better.” I looked at her, and smiled, because I believed her. She was walking proof, and through my tears, I could see inspiration to go on living.
Most of the fellow bereaved parents that I met, gave me little hope for better days. They say that it will never get better. I’ve heard it said that you just learn to live with it. Mrs. Dora was different. She told me that it will get better, with a knowing smile. I believed her that day, and I still believe her now. At that moment, I remember thinking, I want to be like her. I want it to get better. I don’t want to live in this valley of tears forever. I want to have peace one day, just like Mrs. Dora. She told me that she thinks about, and even speaks to her daughter, all the time. She also encouraged me to keep busy, doing something worthwhile.
I contemplated her words, and I did a mental inventory. I believed that Lauren was in heaven. I believed that I would see her on the day I die. I believed that Lauren was enjoying a pain free, and beautiful existence, in the presence of our Lord. If you look at it on paper, what more could a parent want for their child? The pain is mine, and I can take it. I would take it for her. The time without Lauren is torturous, but I can think of no better place for her to be. I know that she wants me to be happy, and so does God. I have to remind myself of this every day, lest I get caught up in the doldrums of grief.
I look forward to seeing Mrs. Dora around town. Our paths cross every so often. Each time I see her, she always has a beautiful smile, and knowing eyes. We usually exchange a few quick words, or a kindred glance. I marvel at her beautiful spirit, and I strive to be more like her. Her example reminds me that I still have a lot of good living to do, and to not let my pain define the rest of my life. I should keep busy, using my pain for good.
T.Rodney
12/31/10